We've made it a habit of settling in river valleys. It wasn't till I became an adult that I realized Kansas City nestled within the bluffs of the Missouri River. Not nearly as flat as you'd think, my childhood playgrounds were tree-filled and hilly, lush with...
Read moreLinks from Where I've Been
A part of our job here has always been to explore our little bit of the island we call home, engaging with culture, connecting with communities doing similar work, and listening and learning from those who know more than us.
Read moreBetween the Plane Tickets and the Passport
I am an expert in very few things: the rule of thirds, packing tiny suitcases, and dodging PTA meetings all make honourable mention on the shortlist. But there is one thing I've been forced to contend with, through copious amounts of trial and error and the benefit of...
Read morethe long goodbye
We just did that thing again. That thing where you wave at your dad from behind the glass, shoes off and boarding pass out. One or two children huddle around you, throwing backpacks onto conveyor belts and walking back and forth through the metal detector. Your husband waits for you on the other side, while you pass through security and from one life to the next.
On one side of the glass you are a daughter. On the other side, you are a sojourner; though, in that moment, you probably don’t feel like one at all.
I remember our first time. A baby girl on my hip and a little-boy-hand in mine. We left on a Sunday, a cavalcade of cars burdened with luggage and hopes, and a great deal of uncertainty. I pressed my forehead against the glass, the warmth of a sunny, late spring morning effortlessly pulling tears from my eyes. Turns out, even after four years of support raising, I was not-so-ready to forsake my Kansas home for Ireland’s green shores. My heart literally ached, threatening to break in two. A large group of saints gathered round us, hands on backs and arms, prayers lifted high by people I have known all my life.
I remember my mother’s proud cries, and my dad’s wave goodbye.
***
I'm writing today at Velvet Ashes on how we say goodbye. Would love it if you joined me there.
These are a few (from 2013) :: Take courage
We're doing the midnight bed dance again because the truth is: no one really knows where we are. Living out of suitcases for over a month, in our 4th round of beds in as many weeks, children bump on the floor in the night and cry out.
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